Ink Blots
by Olivia52
Summary: After Steve and Bucky's battle. Sam and Natasha are worried how Steve is coping.


**Ink Blots**

The petite red head stared into her now cold cup of coffee. She felt exhausted. The last few days had been mayhem with the helicarriers going down, finding Steve barely alive, testifying in front of the senate and knowing that all her secrets were divulged for the world to see.

She sat in the dimly lit hospital room. Stared at the ceiling, the floor, the monitors and the still form of Captain America in the bed beside her. She had come a few hours ago, had talked with Sam for a while and then insisted he needed to get some rest and she would stay with Steve. The Captain would be all right; the doctors had assured her of that. He had been found on the banks of the Potomac and after hours of surgery the doctors had repaired the heinous damage to his body. A stab wound, three gunshot wounds and multiple lacerations and bruises. His fall into the river had caused water in his lungs and a concussion. The serum in his body was already working hard to repair the damage at a much quicker rate than any ordinary person. Of course, any ordinary person would not have survived. Even though he was a super soldier, the damage was extensive and healing would take a while.

He looked peaceful in sleep. Bruises and stitched cuts looked absurd on his handsome face. The bandages on his body were visible even under the hospital gown and blankets. Peace was one thing Steve Rogers knew very little of. She was relieved to see him tranquil now. The conversation with Sam earlier had left her feeling anything but comforted.

" _Pretty messed up to have a best friend do this to you." Sam shook his head after Natasha had entered the room silently and inquire how Steve was doing. They kept their voices to a low whisper. Steve had been fitful earlier and had fallen asleep not long ago._

" _Steve never would give up on him. Makes me wonder what happened up there on that helicarrier; obviously Barnes got away, did Steve just quit fighting? I mean look at him." She gestured to his prone and silent figure in the bed and shook her head._

 _Sam studied Steve for a moment and looked back at Natasha. "Pretty damn hard to fight a man who has been a brother to you. If it had been Riley up there, I'm not sure I could have killed him."_

" _Sam, this man is responsible for more than hundred deaths. I don't care what he was to Steve in the past, he is a monster. He shot me twice without blinking an eye and his intent was to kill Steve." Her voice rose in volume a bit and with a quick glance to make sure she hadn't wakened Steve, she dropped her voice again. "Some people are beyond redemption." Even saying that felt wrong. Clint had certainly not believed she was beyond redemption but she was angry. Steve was the most decent man she knew. No one deserved what he had been through. She sat down in the hard plastic chair next to Sam._

" _I don't know much about this guy. But I know Steve won't give up until he finds him. You know how Cap is when he sets his mind to something." Sam's wry smile followed._

" _You know Steve pretty well. I mean he trusts you, he has let you in." She looked up at him, how she envied Sam sometimes. Steve trusted him almost immediately. It had taken years for she and Steve to even come close to trust. "There are times, I wonder if Steve really did want off that carrier alive. Do you know what I mean?"_

 _A shadow crossed Sam's face. He didn't answer immediately and when he finally did he looked guilty like he was betraying a confidence. "Ya know I asked him once what made him happy." He looked back at Steve and then to Natasha. "He had no idea."_

" _He hides behind sarcasm, a bright smile and burying himself in work. But really, what does he have? He woke up to a world that was foreign; everyone he ever cared about is either dead or very old and has lived their lives. Life had gone on without him and he is left alone. What does he have outside of work? He goes through the motions you know, but…" Again she shook her head and glanced at Steve._

" _It's my job to talk vets into coming to terms with their past. I have tried to do that with Steve but he shuts down. I would never hesitate to follow him into battle. He is the best there is. He's the ultimate soldier but beyond that he is just a good man. Hands down the best I have ever seen, super soldier or not. But even Captain America doesn't come out of all of that without a little PTSD."_

" _I really believe that if he thought he couldn't save Barnes he would die trying. He almost did." She ran her hand through her hair and shrugged her shoulders. "He's going after him." It wasn't even a question; she knew what Steve would do. "If there is any chance at all he can save him, he will. He's proved over and over than he will sacrifice everything for someone else. I wish he had a bit of self preservation." She sighed._

" _Then he wouldn't be Cap would he?" Sam smiled sadly._

" _Go home and get some rest. I will stay here with him. There is more security out that door than Leavenworth." She looked at the armed guards right out side the door._

" _You sure? He woke up a while ago but wasn't awake long. Banner found some concoction that seems to be keeping the pain at bay and helps him sleep. Kind of hate having him wake up alone, ya know?"_

" _I'll be here. Go!"_

 _Sam stood reluctantly, looked back at Steve and then quietly grabbed his backpack and walked out with a nod to Natasha._

That has been three hours ago. She stood silently at his bedside. With feather light fingertips she brushed a lock of blonde hair off his forehead. "Steve, what did you let him do to you?" Her brow furrowed as she gently touched his relaxed hand next to his side. She repressed the shudder she felt as she remembered getting the call he had been found and the flurry of activity and anxiety as he was brought to the ER in critical condition and then the agonizing hours of worry while he was in surgery. She had always been proud of the fact that she didn't form attachments to people. That was the way she had been trained but in the past couple years she had let that guard down. Clint and his family were important to her and now Steve. It made her feel uneasy and vulnerable. She and the Captain had little in common except for their service to SHIELD, but somehow inexplicitly, she and Steve had forged a connection. Two of the most unlikely agents had formed a bond of trust and had relied on each other. She quietly sat back down in the chair, as quiet as she was, it stirred the soldier, his eyes opened slowly and focused on the ceiling. He then turned his head and saw Natasha. She had to smile at the look of surprise on his face. "Hey there sleeping beauty." She stood and put her hand on his forearm. "How you feeling?"

"Peachy". His voice was raspy and when he tried to smile he grimaced instead because of the stitches on his face.

Natasha grabbed a cup with a straw and held it for him as he took a sip of water.

The bruising and stitches looked even more painful with him awake. "You look like hell." She smiled.

"You know what they say about flattery?" He tried to smile again. He shifted to raise himself a bit and grimaced.

She put her foot on the lever of the bed and it gently raised him up to a semi-reclining position. She sat gently at the foot of his bed trying hard not to jostle him.

He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. "I'm sorry you had to face the committee alone. Sam told me you gave them hell."

"Idiots, all of them. I'm not sure how they tie their own shoelaces. SHIELD is doing one thing right, they are keeping you tucked away from it all." She pushed her hair behind her ear and put her hand on his blanket-covered leg.

"I can't believe they were so stupid as to let Hydra grow underneath their nose."

"It was deceit in all its glory. We got Senator Stern. There are Hydra sympathizers dropping like flies right now. No one is too thrilled with the mess in the Potomac but at least they are stopped." She studied his face.

"We lost a lot of innocent lives as well." His brow was furrowed in worry and regret.

"A lot less than we would have. Heard you had a little trouble on the last carrier." She said it gently. She wasn't sure how he would react to reliving the whole battle.

"Yeah. A bit." He glanced down at his bandaged and broken body. "I need to get out of here."

She shook her head. He cared so little for his broken, healing body. He was already onto thinking of someone else.

"I've got to find him." He shifted trying to sit up more but she put a hand on his chest pushing him back gently.

"You will, but not like this. Right now you are damn lucky to be alive. How about you let your body heal before putting it in danger again?"

His motioned stilled and the look of pain on his face was almost more than she could take. "Need more of Banner's happy juice?" She reached for the nurse call button but he stopped her.

"No. I'm okay. I've got to get out of this fog." He shook his head. "He's out there Nat. He is lost. I have to find him."

"He may not want to be found." She sat back down on the side of his bed, closer to him now.

Steve sighed and closed his eyes. "Dammit. I can't waste time in here."

"I'll help you when you are stronger. You have to promise me you will let your body heal first." She put a firm hand on his.

He turned his hand until her palm was within his own and then he looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "They did this to him. They brainwashed him." He shook his head, "I can't imagine what hell he has been through. It's my fault. I should have searched for him. I thought he was dead but I should have searched. He was my best friend. How could I have left him?" He closed his eyes but not before she saw the moisture building behind them.

"This is not your fault Steve. How could you have foreseen all of this? You couldn't. Evil will always exist and we do the best we can to stop it but we can't see it all or stop it all, that is a fact that you and I both need to live with." Her heart ached for him.

"I've got to find him. I need to make it right. I owe him. He saved me so many times and the one time…" his voice wavered and he stopped.

"Steve, don't. Don't you dare take this all on yourself? Quit beating yourself to a pulp, he already did a good job of that for you." She instantly regretted the last words when she saw fresh pain in his eyes. "He was speaking Russian. I can sniff out a few contacts I still have there and see if we can come up with something. YOU have to promise me you will recover first."

"Can you do that? " His expression was less dour than it had been moments before.

"All my covers are blown but I can see what I can dig up. I have a few connections that might still work." She felt so weary. All her lies were out there for everyone to see.

Steve watched her, seeing the tired resignation that crossed her face. "You okay?"

She smiled sadly, "Peachy!"

He didn't let go of her hand, which both surprised her and warmed her.

"I know you have your own issues to deal with, I'm sorry to ask you to help find the man that nearly killed you twice." Regret was heavy in his voice and in his expression.

"I'll see what I can do." She shifted gently. "Steve, have you thought of talking to someone?"

"About what?" He looked confused.

"Sam is good at what he does. If he is too close to you, you could find someone else to talk to." Her voice was tight.

"Talk about what?" There was a slight edge to his voice.

"You've been through a lot. More than anyone I know. It's not a shame to need to work through some things. You have got to have PTSD up the wazoo." She smiled to lighten her words.

His face was dark and his words came out clipped, "You want me to stare at ink blots and tell someone what I see?"

"Steve. Come on, you know I am only saying this because I care. You woke up to a world that is alien to you. You lost everyone you cared about. The one man that lived is out there trying to kill you. Just one of those things would give someone angst. I'm just offering to have you work through some of it." Her voice faltered at the look on his face. Steve could be intimidating when he needed to be and this was one look she had never wanted directed at her.

He straightened up a bit, shifting with a grimace and his expression was detached and cold. "Have I failed at a mission? Have I shirked from a duty? Is this because I failed Bucky? Have I harmed anyone on my team?" His words were clipped and defensive.

She scooted closer but not touching him. "Steve. Stop. I am not accusing you of anything I am simply saying that talking to someone might help." She reached for his hand again. He did not turn it to hold hers but kept it clenched into a fist at his side.

"If I needed to talk to someone, I would." He was shutting her out and she felt cold and hurt. She was angry mostly with herself because his trust meant a great deal to her.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence, neither looking at the other. When she did speak her words were soft, hushed. "I was raised in the Red Room." She glanced up at him, "I'm sure you read my files. I was trained in the most horrific manner to do the most horrific things. I was trained to never feel, to never care, to never look back or think of myself." She studied his face until he looked at her. "Clint found me pretty messed up. I am still messed up some of the time but I talked to Clint. He demanded I talk to him." She smiled shyly. "I needed to able to get past the past, you know?" She stared into his eyes. "I have come to terms with a few things. I can look forward now. I can look in the mirror and not detest my own reflection. We don't do what we do in this line of work, as soldiers," she squeezed his fist, "and not come out of it with baggage. That is all I am saying. I am not accusing you or trying to hurt you. I consider you a friend and that list is very short." She stared into his blue eyes. "If I offended you, I am sorry, that was never my intent. I see hurt that goes deep into your soul even though you mask it very, very well. Asking for help, seeking for clarity is not a weakness. " She dropped her eyes to her hand covering his own.

He shifted again causing her to look up. He nodded slowly his expression unreadable. "I will give it some thought." His voice was devoid of emotion.

She sighed and took his hand in both of her own, his fist relaxed. "I think during your war, talking about feelings was against civility. We have come along way in the past seventy years; better coffee, better vodka…" She smiled at him and winked. "Working through stuff isn't a violation anymore."

Steve nodded slowly and looked up at her. "No ink blots?" He tried to smile.

"No ink blots. Although, I hear Tony has affectively made them very perverted and will never again be used in mental health." She laughed.

"Stark is good at perversion." His smile was lopsided from the pull of the stitches and it made her smile.

"We good?" She lifted a hand and motioned between the two. "Still friends?"

He turned his hand in hers once again and held it gently. "My friend list is shorter than yours, most of mine are dead." He nudged her leg with their entwined hands. "I can't afford to lose a friend, so yeah, we are good."

"Nice to hear I am indispensible." She teased and smiled warmly at him.

The door opened then and a rested, showered Sam entered the room, "Did I miss an Oprah bonding moment." He gestured at their close proximity and entwined hands. 

Natasha stood, "Yup, you missed it." She winked at Steve and then bent down and kissed his cheek. "I will bring real food," She gestured at the untouched tray on the side countertop, "that must have looked disgusting when it was hot and now it is simply vulgar."

"Bring enough for two Romanoff. I'm starving." Sam smiled warmly at her.

"With his appetite," she nodded her head toward Steve," I will bring enough for a small battalion." She smiled and walked out the door.


End file.
